Wilted Daisies
by DrakeGirl-San
Summary: GermanyxItaly, Slightly AU-ish. Teen for language and other content. Mostly language. Chap. 4 now uploaded!: Italy and Germany go on a special trip for the anniversary of their friendship...
1. Prologue

**(A/N) **Drake's back, she's not dead XD Just a little busy. I should be working on Revirement, I know, but I found a new love during my absence… Hetalia Axis Powers. Then I fell in love with HRExChibitalia, GermanyxItaly, and many others… (But I won't forget Revirement. I love it too much to let it go…)

This is my first time writing anything Yaoi… don't bite me XD

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_**Prologue**_

_Little Italy didn't expect to see him that morning. Not like that._

_He was only going out to get a pail of water for Austria, when upon his way he saw his best friend, Holy Roman Empire, and some other people from the house, gathered around a carriage._

_Feliciano skipped over, forgetting his duties for a brief moment. "Holy Roman Empire, Morning! What are you doing up~?" He chirped in a singsong voice._

_Holy Roma looked up from the drawing he was holding, immediately became flustered, and hid the drawing behind his back. "Eh?! H-How did you know where I-?!" Italy took a step closer. "D-Don't! Stop there!" He warned. "Don't get any closer! Y-Yeah, stay there…"_

_Italy paused in his tracks. "Huh?"_

"_I… I woke up early… so I wouldn't see you…" Holy Roma began to explain, his voice hinting a sour topic. He didn't want to confront the girl like this… (Well, Italy was actually a boy, but he never noticed due to the maid uniform he wore or the dresses Hungary put him in. So he __assumed__ Italy was a girl.)_

"_Holy Roman Empire? What do you…" Italy was confused. His heart felt like something grabbed it and began to squeeze it… was it fear?_

_Holy Roma sighed. "L-Look, Italy… I need to tell you, that I'm sorry… I'm sorry for everything… This…" He bit his lip. "This is goodbye, so… don't worry… about me…"_

_Feliciano's eyes began to sting, and the fear squeezed harder. "I-I don't understand…"_

"_I meant what I said…" Holy Roma looked away, hurt._

_One of Holy Roma's followers walked up. "Holy Roman Empire. We're set and ready to leave."_

_He nodded once. Then turned his head back to Italy. "Well, so long… Stay well, okay?" He smiled sadly. "Goodbye…" He walked to the carriage._

"_No…" Italy's voice came out in a gasp. The tears welled up in his eyes… "Y-You're really going?" One tear fell freely down his cheek. "Don't go, Holy Roman Empire, please…"_

_He couldn't stop him, but he had to do something. "Oh what, what??" Italy fretted. "What should I do? What should I – Oh!!" He shuffled a little. "Holy Roman Empire!"_

_Holy Roma stopped. Gaining enough courage to face the Italian, he turned around-_

_Italy was holding his panties._

"_T-Take this!" He squeaked, his tears still running. "Take this, and think of me!"_

_Holy Roman Empire's face glowed red. "What are you-?" His face got redder. 'E-Eh… underwear as a gift… That means…' Redder than a tomato. 'This is a confession!' "T-thank you, Ita... I accept your feelings. I'll also… What do your people give to loved ones, Ita?"_

"_A…" Feliciano pondered. "… A kiss?"_

"_Ah, I see." Holy Roman Empire said. "Italy… Ever since the 900's, I've always loved you."_

_He leaned forward, softly placing a kiss upon Italy's lips._

_Italy gently hugged back, more tears rolling down his cheeks. Not so much in sadness, though. "Really?"_

"_Yeah… It's true, Ita. No lie."_

_The Italian smiled. "I'm so happy."_

_After a while, Holy Roman Empire backed away, a look of hope on his face. "Farewell, Italy! I'm definitely coming back to you when the fight is over, I promise!"_

"_Yes!" Italy grinned widely. "I'll wait for you! And make lots of sweets for your return!" He waved as Holy Roma walked to the carriage. "D-Don't get sick, or hurt, okay?! We'll see each other again! We really will!"_

_Holy Roma waved back, smiling. As the carriage pulled away, he shouted, "No matter how many hundreds of years go by, I'll always love you more than anyone in the world!"_

_000ooo000_

_Years passed. Long, long and lonely years._

_Italy had grown since he made his promise with the Holy Roman Empire, but he didn't forget him. Even if he no longer dressed as a girl and was living with big brother France now, he still had strong feelings for his childhood friend._

_Today he was sitting by the window, gazing out over the French countryside. He didn't know what he was to do today, and it wasn't time for lunch yet. France was also out, so he couldn't leave the house. Francis said he would have to talk to him when he returned…_

_Right on queue, the Frenchman entered the room. His movement was steady, and he wasn't smiling. Feliciano stood still, the greeting smile he had quickly vanished. Francis wasn't smiling… something wasn't right._

_France tried to smile. "Today, my boss… He signed the treaty, and Austria admitted defeat…" He sighed. "The… The Emperor…"_

"_The Emperor…?" Italy's stomach twisted into a knot._

"_Oui… The Holy Roman Emperor…" – The Italian's eyes widened in surprise – "He resigned. My boss conquered it… The Holy Roman Empire."_

_Feliciano gasped, his face lightened up as he smiled widely. "SO! So, that means he'll live with us now?!" The thought of him coming back… it was just like he promised! He jumped from the chair he was sitting in. "Holy Roman Empire will live with us now?! He-?!"_

_Francis turned around, his head tilted down and to the side… Italy froze._

"_The Holy Roman Empire… Doesn't exist anymore, Feliciano." He sighed._

_Italy's smile faded._

"_Wh…What?" His breath, his excitement… it was all lost. "It... doesn't exist? But, Francis, what does that-?"_

_Realization._

_France nodded once._

"_He, just… Just like grandpa…? He… He… How?" Feliciano held his breath, trying to hide a sob… "How?... What happened? What…"_

"_I don't know, Feliciano." France said. "My boss created a confederation with part of his land… But the Holy Roman Empire we knew… Is dead."_

_Italy couldn't hold back the tears any longer. His eyes stung until the tears overflowed uncontrollably, grabbing at his shirt as he curled into himself, sobbing._

_France couldn't do anything but listen to the sound of the Italian's sorrow._

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**(A/N) **Sadness D: Poor Italy!

Please R&R!


	2. Zinnia

**(A/N) **'Sup? I'm sad to say this, but the artist that drew the pictures that inspired _Wilted Daisies _has stopped submitting Hetalia fanart to DA, plus deleted the ones she had there. Sorry if the link in the prologue confused ya D: I found her LJ, though I'm not sure if it'll work though .

Why, yes, these chapters ARE going to have flower names! XD It's picked to go along with Italy or Germany's emotion in the chapter, depending on whom the chapter mainly focuses on. (Or at least as close as I can get...)

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_**Chapter One**_

_**Zinnia (Thoughts of an absent friend)**_

Feliciano's eyelids slowly opened, tiredness still clinging to them and trying to make them stay closed longer.

It was morning in the Italian's home, the sunlight peered through the blinds on the window, the sweet smell of the garden's flowers drifted through the room –

"Hey! Feliciano, you idiot! You knocked me off the bed again last night!"

… His older brother, Lovino, also known as the southern half of Italy, hit his head with a pillow.

"Uyah!" N. Italy squealed from harsh contact with the pillow. The younger Italian looked from beneath the covers at his big brother. "I-I'm sorry, Lovino."

"Sorry isn't enough!" S. Italy hit his little brother's head. "That's the sixth time this month, Feliciano! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Feliciano squeaked from being hit with a fist, but kept quiet at the older Italian's question. For the past month, N. Italy had been having a reoccurring dream. Though, it was more of a nightmare, and they were memories instead of imaginative figments.

It would start from his childhood, when he lived in Austria's house. He also worked there as a servant, being confused for a girl. But, he had one best friend.

Another boy, roughly his age, or maybe older. One day, his friend left the house to fight in a war, but promised to return.

The next part of the dream was in later years, when he lived with big brother France. He would come in, sad, and tell Italy that his friend had died in the war…

It had been such a long time since then, that as the years passed by, he had begun to forget what his promise was, his name, his face… soon Feliciano only had a faint flicker of his memories left. He knew his friend's name in the dream, but whenever he awoke, he would forget it again. And he never told anyone, not even his brother, about the dreams.

"HEY! Are you listening to me?!" Lovino began to violently strangle his younger brother with the bed sheet.

Feliciano choked and gagged, struggling to free himself. He was kicking around so much that his foot hit the nightstand and knocked over some objects. One particular rolled-up paper was sent flying across the room, bounced off a window and a chair, and landed partly unrolled on the floor. The Italians stopped fidgeting for a moment before Feliciano hopped on his now throbbing foot to the paper. He crouched over it, reading the print that covered the top…

'Italy and… G-E-R-M-A…'

"Oh!" Feliciano jumped up. "That's right! I have to go see Germany today!" He ran to the closet and quickly pulled out his uniform – blue pants and a matching jacket, with a black shirt and tie beneath.

"That potato-bastard AGAIN?" Lovino glared disapprovingly. "He's all you ever talk about. 'Germany this, Germany that, Germany, Germany, Germany'! Bah, it makes me sick just thinking about it!" He made a gag face.

"Please don't be like that, big brother." N. Italy sighed as he pulled his arm through his jacket sleeve. "Ludwig isn't a bad person. We made a pact, remember?" He pointed his pinky out. "He promised to protect me."

"Doesn't matter." S. Italy groaned, slipping back onto the bed. "While you go waste your time with that bastard, I'll be getting the sleep I lost last night."

Feliciano straightened his tie and leapt out of the closet, smiling brightly. He usually didn't let his brother's words of negativity get to him, and he certainly wasn't going to let it start today. Always see the bright side of life. That was his motto. "Ciao, brother! I'll be back around lunchtime, okay?" He dashed out the door and down the hallway.

Lovino stared as he left the room, before a look of horror crossed his face.

"F-FELICANO, YOU IDIOT! YOU FORGOT YOUR PANTS!"

000ooo000

N. Italy paused for a minute outside a large building, craning his neck back so he could look at the decorated rooftop. "I always forget how _BIG_ Germany's place is!" He sang to himself before knocking on the door. It slowly swung open, revealing a decorated interior. An old-fashioned chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the front room. Feliciano dashed in, oblivious to the few small groups of people also there, some workers, some townspeople.

"Germany?! Germany~?!" He began to shout, catching the attention and a few stares from the people in the room. "Where are you, Germany~?! Germa-?!" An arm locked around his neck, strangling him."-NY!!?" He squirmed around, trying to free himself. "Uwah, I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me! I'll do anything, anything you want! Just don't hurt me~!!"

"Quiet down, idiot!" A second voice shouted in his ear. "You're causing a scene!"

He stopped, and the arm released him. He spun around, smiling brightly. "Ah, Germany!"

It was, indeed, Germany. A man much taller that he was, he was also more serious and organized with a muscular build. He had blonde hair that was usually slicked back and blue eyes that could pierce through any defense.

Germany sighed. "Why are you here today, Italy?"

Feliciano laughed. "Germany forgot? He's so silly~!"

Ludwig raised a hand to his forehead. "Not so loud, Italy."

"Yessir, commander, sir!" He saluted, the grin still plastered to his face. He was normally happy, especially around Germany, rarely getting depressed. There were the occasional times where he'd cower, cry and surrender, but he never let it bother him. (Which usually would be the cause of Germany's troubles.)

"You don't have to call me commander, we're not at war right now."

"Okay, Germany!"

"You still need to use an inside voice, though." Germany placed his hand on the Italian's head, trying to settle him down.

"Si, si!" N. Italy giggled.

"Now, what is it that you wanted?" Germany raised an eyebrow. "You're supposed to call first if you want a meeting."

Feliciano looked up at the taller man, a hint of sadness in his face. "Ve? Germany really forgot?"

"Italy, can't you just tell me wha-?"

_**CRASH!-CLATTER!-BANG!!**_

The racket echoed through the hallways. Italy jumped in alarm, clinging onto Germany. "AAH!! WH-WHAT IS THAT?! ARE WE UNDER ATTACK?! WHAT IS IT?!? _WHAT'S GOING ON GERMANY~!??!?!!?"_

"L-Let go of me, idiot!" Germany shouted as he peeled the Italian off his side. "I'll go check it out, okay?" He sat Feliciano on a chair. "Stay here and don't get into trouble! I'll be back as soon as I can."

Italy trembled, wiping the tears from his face. "O-Okay…"

"Pull yourself together. It was probably just an accident in the kitchen." Another crash rang, and Ludwig went to inspect what was happening.

Although, he was pretty sure who it was…

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**(A/N) **I've kept you waiting long enough, I'm sure! Next chapter will feature a certain *coughcoughawesomecoughcoughcough* character, hope I don't butcher his personality.

R&R please!

(Edit: Fixed some grammer mistakes XD;)


	3. Colchicum

**(A/N) **Drake here, back with another chapter of _Wilted Daisies_! This is sort of off subject, but was anyone else here reading the Hetalia Valentine's scans on LJ during Chocolate Day? I SURE AS HELL WAS. Look on page 6 of the comments and you'll find me (lady_drake_chan).

And sorry for lack of better chapter title D:

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_**Chapter Two**_

_**Colchicum (My best days fled)**_

Germany marched down the hallways, the clatters and tin ringing noises becoming louder as he reached the kitchen door. He felt – no, he KNEW he didn't want to do this, it was always too troublesome… but, regardless, he opened the doors and walked into the kitchen.

It was a huge, complete and total _mess_. Pots, pans, lids and cooking utensils were scattered across the tiled floor, a bit of food splattered on the walls, and a knife was hanging from the ceiling. The cooks, waiters and chore boys were crowded between two counters, witnesses to a fight. One of the younger cooks was on the ground, his lip bruised and bleeding and his hair in his face. Three older chefs were holding his opponent back, whom was almost completely unscathed, save a few scratches in his sleeves. His hair was silver in color, cropped short and spiking out slightly. His eyes were red – not in the sense as being bloodshot, or that he was crying, but that his irises were naturally a bloody crimson. He was smirking, a laugh escaping his lips between breaths.

He was Ludwig's older brother, Gilbert. Better known as Prussia, or 'East'.

Germany sighed, annoyed. "Why is everyone off task?" He demanded in a stern tone. "Get back to work! All of you who engaged in the fight will remain here until proper punishment is decided. And someone get a mop in this place!" He pointed to Prussia. "You, come with me. We need to talk. _In my office._"

Prussia turned his head to Ludwig and grinned – Not in a friendly Italy way, but more of a hell-yes-this-is-perfect-timing-according-to-plan-insert-evil-laugh-here Prussia way – shoving the cooks off his back and walking towards his little brother with open arms.

"Weeell, if it isn't West," – His nickname for Germany – "My little brother!" He put an arm around Ludwig's shoulders and smirked at the boy on the floor again. "_Just like I said._"

The boy stood from the floor, clenching his fists. "Y-You-! I aught to-!"

"Benno, behave yourself!" One cook hit the boy's head with a ladle.

Gilbert laughed. "Better listen to your master, little bear*."

Germany sighed, moving Prussia's arm off his shoulders. "East. Office. _Now._"

"Whatever you say, West." Prussia shrugged his shoulders and followed his brother out the kitchen doors.

000ooo000

In Germany's office, Ludwig sat behind his desk filing papers for the kitchen incident while Gilbert lounged on the couch, rambling on and on about miscellaneous things (Germany had given up on getting him to explain what happened in the kitchen – You can't force these things on Prussia. Nor can you get the truth %50 of the time.). Thank god that he had been around Prussia long enough to drown his voice out of his mind. He grabbed a nearby pen to sign forms when Prussia was talking about Hungary.

"Seriously, what's that woman's problem?" He asked aloud, knowing Germany wasn't paying any real attention. "It's like, whenever she sees me, the first thing that comes to her mind is 'Hey Prussia! Have you seen my new frying pan? I'm not stingy, so I'll give you a close-up!' Jeeze, I liked her better as a boy..."

Once again, bringing up his childhood. Ludwig only shook his head and continued signing papers.

Gilbert grinned, chuckling to himself. "Boy, it was such a blast beating up that sissy aristocrat in those days. Switzerland was a pain though." He shrugged. "Some things never change, I guess. Like how I've never stopped being so awesome!" He punched (An invisible Austria) air with his fist and laughed triumphantly. "Yeah! Go me! Always lookin' out for number one in the world!"

"You're so full of yourself…" Germany mumbled under his breath.

Prussia sat up on the couch, looking at his younger brother in disbelief. "Oh, what's this?! Did my ears deceive me, or was West actually listening to me?!" He sniffed and rubbed his eyes, laying the sarcasm and drama on _very _thickly. "That's so heart warming, I think I'm gonna cry…"

"Like I said. Full of yourself." Germany never took his eyes off his papers.

The Prussian pouted. "You're no fun, West." He reclined on the couch again, crossing one bent leg over the other and folding his arms across his chest. "Why do you always have to be such a stick-in-the-mud?"

"Someone has to get things done." Ludwig replied flatly.

"Meh…" Gilbert groaned, shifting so his back was to the stuffy German. "You were cuter when you were _younger_…"

Germany paused, briefly but surely.

He shook off the thought, only to have it latch onto his mind again. After all, he couldn't afford to dwadle in his past if he wanted to remain a strong country.

… Even so, Prussia hardly ever brought up his history, and when he did, it was a short "you were better like that" or "you did things like this", then return to whatever he was doing before. This wouldn't bother him so much if 1. Prussia would finish what he was saying for once, and 2. He could remember farther back than his teenaged years…

'_But,' _He always concluded, _'If it was so important or beneficial to remember those times, I wouldn't have difficulty doing so. So I won't waste energy doing so.' _

The papers now had the necessary information filled in, arranged in a neat stack. He glanced over at the clock, the time showed 2:47. Then he remembered Feliciano was still waiting for him.

"Brother," He cleared his throat, "I have to report back to Italy now that the paperwork is done, so please leave my office."

Prussia glanced over his shoulder and beamed – dark intentions glinting in his eyes. "Oh, Ita-Chan's here? What's the occasion?"

"I honestly don't know." Ludwig sighed. "Sometimes he just arrives unannounced." Most of those times he was taking a shower, but best not to tell Prussia that detail.

Gilbert's grin widened. "Maybe I could-"

"No. Go back to the east wing. I won't have you interfering with my business with my allies."

The silver-haired Prussian frowned, but jumped up from the couch. "Whatever you say, West. _But I really, really wanna see Ita-Chan too…_" He whined.

"You're a few centuries too late to try that one, East." Germany led them out from the office, holding the door for his older sibling.

"Oh well," Gilbert sighed, walking down the hallway. "If he comes as often as you say he does, I'll get my chance."

'_I have to keep Italy away from that man.' _Ludwig sighed in his mind. But that isn't the matter at hand. He needs to go back to - And most likely search for, find and scold - the said Italian, see what he wants, and continue with his day.

But, by some stroke of luck, Italy was waiting right where he left him, swinging his legs back and forth on the chair, humming to himself. Upon the German's entry, his eyes lit up and he hopped off the chair, locking his arms around his waist. "Germany! Germany! Ne, you were gone a long time~!"

He pet the shorter brunet on the head, careful not to touch the extra-sensitive hair curl - He wasn't sure what it did exactly, besides make Italy faint, twitch and froth at the mouth slightly. "I apologize. I had to file some papers regarding the accident in the kitchen."

Italy gazed up at him with his large brown eyes. "What happened in there anyway, Germany? What made the loud noise?"

"… A rat. A really big one." He held his hands out in an exaggerated length.

"Th-That's huge!" The Italian trembled at the thought of a 4-foot-long rodent.

"Italy, was there something you wanted?"

"Si… Ve, I guess Germany really did forget. But I'm not mad, because I get to tell him!" Feliciano beamed, twirling on his foot in a circle. "Today~! Today is the day Italy first met Germany!"

The blond was taken aback by this fact. Was it really? Italy remembered such a date? … Well, this WAS Italy he was talking about. He'd remember something like this, but never bother to think about training.

Even so, Ludwig allowed a small smile to betray his lips. "Is that so?"

"Yeah!" Italy grabbed Germany's gloved hands in his. "I thought we should go out on a special trip tomorrow to celebrate!"

Now, this, Germany didn't exactly approve of. "Italy, if this is something you wanted to do, you should've told me sooner!"

"Ne, but I just thought of it today!"

"Italy, we _**can't.**_"Ludwig said strictly. "There's too much to be done. We don't have that kind of time to-"

"Aw, come on! Please, Germany? Please please please please ple~ase?" The brunet used his biggest lost puppy-dog eyes and begged. "Please, with all the gelato in the world and sprinkles on top??"

Germany was a strong man. He could endure the most brutal of torture, the longest of training drills, and the heart-racing adrenaline of war. His strategy was impenetrable, his technique the best… but he didn't have anything to defend himself from Feliciano's "Puppy-Pout" face.

Ngh, damn that face.

"Alright, fine." He surrendered.

"Yaaay!" Italy beamed, dancing around Ludwig. "Thanks Germany, you're the best! I'll call later when I figure out what we can do, okay?" He skipped down the hallway, waving. "I have to go, it's past lunch already and almost time for Siesta! Ciao~!"

He watched as the Italian hopped through the front door, down the steps, trip over a bush, and start running down the street.

"…Dear god, what have I gotten myself in to…?"

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**(A/N) **Chapter two is now through! It was hard writing in Ludwig's P.O.V, Reason A) He's a really serious character, more serious than other characters I've written for, and Reason B) It's hard finding a flower to match his personality.*Sweatdrop*

On another note: Yes, the awesome character is none other than Prussia! God, that guy makes me laugh. I'm glad I got to write about him! Don't worry, he'll appear again later on in the story! He has to, he's Prussia.

*Benno = German name meaning 'Bear'.


	4. Diosma

**(A/N) **LOLOL Writer's block isn't funny D:

And I thank my dad for speaking car, 'cause god knows I wouldn't have been able to pick one suitable for this fanfic by myself XD

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_**Chapter Three**_

_**Diosma (Your simple elegance charms me)**_

Ludwig sat in the driver's seat of a white 1939 BMW 328, drumming the fingers of his left hand on the steering wheel in impatience as he waited for Feliciano. It still made the German a little nervous about leaving the said Italian unattended in HIS house, and good lord knows what could happen, even if Gilbert wasn't home today… but when Italy arrived, he said he would only take a minute to finish what he couldn't at his own home.

"… Well, at first I couldn't find the wrapping paper, then I almost broke it, and, and, after that Lovino got mad at me for getting you something, and we ran out of tape…" Italy's apologies and explanations continued on until Germany calmed him down long enough to say he could borrow some of his supplies. The Italian smiled brightly as he bounced up the stairway and into the building. It wasn't uncommon for Italy to take a long time to finish a simple task, he could spend hours just trying to tie a single shoe's laces together.

At times, like this moment, Germany would wonder how he even puts up with the dim brunet. He wasn't useful in battle, always getting himself captured… The only two things he could make on his own were pasta and white flags… He doesn't make an effort to work at all, and only dances, sings, paints and sleeps all day…

"Germany, Germany!" Italy's voice broke his thread of concentration. "I'm done! I'm ready!" The next thing Ludwig knew, Feliciano's brown eyes were in his face, blocking his view. In his arms was a present, wrapped up in brightly colored paper and tied with curled ribbons. His clothing was casual for today, a simple white button-up shirt and creamy-tan pants. "Ve, I thought I was gonna drive."

Germany sat up straight, smoothing out his black cotton shirt. "I'm sure you don't want us to die in a car crash on such an important date." Truth be told, he wasn't as enthusiastic of the trip as Italy, but might as well amuse him.

"But your driving is way too slow!" The Italian whined. "It could take us forever to get there, and I wanted it to be a surprise!"

"You can tell me the directions there – a simple left or right will suffice. I know the land better than you do-"

"But I really really wanted to-!"

"Italy." The German hushed his comrade with a stern tone. "Please, just do this one thing for me."

Feliciano pouted, but nodded in agreement. He sighed as he walked to the opposite side of the car and jumped into the passenger seat, carefully placing his gift to Ludwig between the two of them.

The blond raised an eyebrow at the gift. While it looked like Italy had gone a little overboard with the curled ribbons, he had to admit it was beautifully wrapped…

Actually, Italy could do almost anything with arts or crafts to the point of near perfection.

"What's the present for?"

Italy gave a small, playfully coy smile. "Ve, it's a special gift for Germany, but he can't open it until later." He giggled.

Germany decided that was good enough of an answer, turning the key in the ignition and making the car's engine roar to life. "Which way first?" He shouted over the thunder of the BMW.

"Left!"

000ooo000

"Ne, ne! Germany! Isn't it nice today?" Feliciano sang to his partner.

Ludwig leaned against the sports car, watching his partner dance across the field of lush, tall green grass they pulled up next to. In response to Italy's question, he glanced up at the bright, blue sky. It was nearly cloudless, and only a few small, puffy white clouds rolled across it.

"The weather is fair." He answered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I need to ask, Italy. Of all places, why did you want to come here?" he gestured with his head towards the general area – rolling hills, some trees planted here or there, but mostly on the mountains that stood proudly as their peaks touched the heavens – it was none other than the German countryside. _His _countryside. "Aren't you always saying your countryside areas are better?"

"Mm, yeah…" The Italian twirled up to his taller partner, stopping a few inches away and looking up at him. "But, Germany is always working. Even when he takes a break, he's busy doing something. And when he goes on vacation, he likes to go to Italy to do sightseeing." He wrapped his arms around Germany, giving him a soft hug. "I don't mind that he likes my land, of course… but I thought, maybe since today is special, we could do something a bit different. So, I decided to go to Germany's countryside!" He released his hold on his partner and began twirling again. "It's beautiful here, too! Not as pretty as mine, but still pretty enough!"

Germany's cheeks ever so slightly glowed with the tiniest hint of red from the compliment, as the Italian continued to dance around in circles until becoming so exhausted that he fell onto his back, breathing deeply, staring at the sky in a dreamlike state. While his partner was hidden beneath the grass, Germany opened the trunk of the vehicle, pulled out a wicker basket, and strode over to where the brunet rested. "I didn't know how long we would be out…" Germany placed the basket on the ground, nearby Italy's head. "…So I had this prepared, just in case."

The Italian sat up, staring at the basket with large, curious eyes. "Hmm? What is it?" But as soon as the question passed his lips, a familiar and delicious scent drifted from the basket. The scent of a special dish, consisting dough made from flour and eggs…

The blond laid out a checkered blanket, and then proceeded to take ceramic dishes filled with food out of the basket. One dish had a light salad, another wursts, and the third dish – before Germany even set the wursts down, Italy had grabbed the dish and stared into it, his mouth watering – was filled with warm, steamy pasta.

"Hey, settle down." Ludwig scolded lightly.

"G-Germany! You made pasta?!" The Italian's voice reached a high pitch.

"Well…" He pulled out two glasses, a jug of beer and a bottle of wine. "I had one of my cooks learn from a chef of yours how to prepare it, to suit your taste." _'You pretty much live in my house as a second home anyway, so I have to be prepared…' _

Feliciano smiled. Not in the normal, silly way, but in a soft, affectionate way that was uncommon (but not unseen) to Ludwig. Feliciano was happy. He was so very happy. Germany, his greatest friend, had prepared his favorite food for him, and for that he was grateful.

Ludwig poured the wine into one of the glasses, handing it to Italy. He wouldn't hurt himself with glass, he knew.

Italy had incredible, almost _elegant _table manners.

After pouring beer into his own glass, he raised it to eyelevel. "Beifall." He grinned ever so slightly.

"Cin cin!" Italy raised his own glass, tapping it against Germany's with a soft _klink_. "To 73 years of Friendship!"

_Alliance _instead of friendship would've sounded more accurate in the German's mind, but for now, he didn't care. There was something about the Italian that made him less serious the longer he was with him, able to just relax… and he had no clue what it was.

The next thing he knew, the said brunet was stretched across Germany's lap, resting his head at the base of his neck and arms wrapped around his torso, in some form of a "cuddle hug".

"I-Italy? What are you-?!"

Italy rubbed his head against Germany, whose face was getting redder and redder each second. Just exactly how long did he plan to stay like this? In this _embarrassing _and _uncomfortable_ position, even if no one was around to see? Not for much longer, he hoped.

"I love you, Germany." Feliciano sighed. It was light and airy, and due to the cotton shirt he was wearing, Germany could feel his breath drift across and tickle his chest.

"I, uh…" His face flushed, as he looked for the words to reply with to the younger man. He awkwardly embraced Italy with an open arm, supporting himself with the other, and mumbled, "…oveyoutoo."

"Hmm? I didn't hear you, Germany~"

"I said… I… love you too…"

Feliciano smiled to himself, before sitting up again and turning his attention to the pasta, as if nothing happened.

It was then, as Italy ate away at his pasta, that Germany thought maybe he did have a reason he put up with the brown-haired dunce. Even if he wasn't a great fighter, or a useful assistant… what he was, was an honest, truthful friend that you could rely on to make you feel better when you're depressed.

He shrugged to himself, and bit into a wurst.

---

**(A/N) **OKAY I'M GOING TO BED NOW. G'NIGHT!

Please R&R!


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